For Brooklyn 3
by AmbrLupin
Summary: While Red is off following Spot, Queens tears itself apart with a new Leader. With Brooklyn practically helpless and the Bronx totally undefended, can Manhattan help, or will old grudges get in the way? And will Red ever find Spot? Sequel to FB and FB2
1. Doesn’t even know me

For Brooklyn 3

By: Ambrlupin

Chapter One: Doesn't even know me

Summary: While Red is off following Spot, the home front takes center stage as Queens enters into what could be its first civil war. With Brooklyn practically helpless and the Bronx totally undefended, can Manhattan help, or will old grudges get in the way? And will Red ever find Spot? (Sequel to FB and FB2)

Disclaimer: If I did, I'd have money. Seeing as I do not...well what does that tell you?

However, Prince is not mine. I no claim. -huggles- I wish I did tho, freaking fun charrie to play let me tell you. Albeit slightly challenging.

A/n: THIRD half of my first Newsie fic. -blink- ...when did that happen!

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"You only have one life. Live it to the fullest, play your hands when you've been dealt them, and throw caution to the wind. Thats the only way you're going to get anywhere, the only way you're going to succeed. And it's also the only way Spot Conlon is ever going to like you." - Racetrack Higgins

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_"Red?" Someone was shaking him, shaking him hard. Groaning, he burrowed his face into the pillow, pulling the bare blanket over his face, curling up in the warm cocoon he had managed to make. All was quiet then and he sighed happily, relaxing once more._

_"...RED!" _

_This time, whoever it was just jumped on him. _

_Squawking indignantly, he tried to get away from the tearing hands that were attempting to pull him from his warm bed. "Go...ARGH...Away!" _

_"But Red, its Christmas." The voice was full of the pout only children could give, and he was nudged in the shoulder. "Aren't you going to get up?" _

_He recognized the voice then. _

_Rubbing sleep from his eyes, he peeled back the blanket and saw Spot, straddling his back, little arms crossed sadly. "Christmas, eh?" _

_Spot nodded, the pout still on his face. "Yeah."_

_"Ya sure?" He managed to pull the other off of him and he sat up all the way, his blanket falling to his waist. Shivering as the cold air bit through his bed clothes, he ran a hand through his hair. "Cause I don't think its Christmas." _

_Now the little newsie looked puzzled. "Whaddya mean? Its Christmas, I know it is!" But he was starting to look a little scared. Perhaps the older kids had lied to him and Christmas wasn't for a few more days. _

_Or maybe he had missed it entirely. _

_Red shook his head as he slipped off the bed, biting back a curse as his feet touched the cold wood of the floor. "No, Its not Christmas, kid." Seeing Spot's horrified look, he pulled open a drawer and pulled out a small box. "Its not Christmas until you've opened your first present." _

_Spot's face lit up, eyes wide and sparkling as he tackled the box, "Its foah me? REALLY!" Plopping down right where he stood, he tore at the box, ripping it open to reveal a cherry red handmade sled. _

_"Made it myself." Red said proudly, a smile on his face. "Do you like it?"_

_Did he like it? Did he LIKE it? _

_Well that was easy enough to answer. Was the sky blue? _

_"I LOVE IT!" Spot cried, on his feet and tackling the elder, arms wrapped around his waist. He had never gotten a present like this before...in fact he had never gotten presents at home, because they never celebrated Christmas. He hadn't even known what it was until the other kids told him._

_"Im glad." He ruffled the kid's hair, "How bout we get you dressed up, and fed...and you can go try it out." _

_Spot seemed to like that idea, as he flew out the door and down the stairs, sled clasped tightly to his chest, silver-blue eyes sparkling with joy. Then there was Red, who stood in the doorway, a warm smile on his face, emerald eyes watching every move Spot took._

"Red...Red..." His shoulder was being shaken, "Mr. Red..."

Blinking, Red raised his head, looking across the seat to see the blue-green eyes of Tiffany McLean. "..I thought I told you to stop with the Mr. stuff." He murmurred, voice a little raspy.

"Im sorry." Her face flushed a little, her son, Micky asleep in her arms. "Its just the dinner cart is going around, I was wondering if you wanted something off of it...I wasn't sure if I should wake you..."

Rubbing at his face, he gave her a small smile. "No, its fine...I am a little hungry. Are you?" He could faintly hear the click-clack of the wheels of the dinner cart over the sounds of the train rushing along the tracks.

"Oh...oh no. Im fine." She twisted a strand of her caramel hair around her finger.

Raising an eyebrow, not believing her in the slightest -and looking at her wire thin frame- Red waited until the lady with the cart came by, and he ordered them both a meal, ignoring the small protest she gave him.

And as they ate, he looked out the window and wondered how things were back home.

And if he...and Spot...would ever see it again.

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"No, im a guy who looks remarkably like a goil and wears my hair long for kicks." Prince snorted, arms crossed and hat held firmly in one hand. "Of course im a goil."

Ace grinned, leaning back in his seat. "Well...this sure does complicate things, don't it, Jack?" Since Prince was a girl, Jack couldn't do much in the way of getting his payback. No self respecting newsie hit a female.

The vein just above Jack's eye twitched and he cast a glare toward Ace that went ignored. "You stay outta dis." His voice was steely, and his jaw set in anger. He hadn't been expecting such a turn of events. "You cant be a leader then. Only guys are leaders."

Both Prince and Ace raised their eyebrows. Jack was grabbing for things that weren't there, apparently. He was just trying to find a reason to hate her already, ignoring the fact she was from Queens, of course. He was just never going to let go of the old grudges...not that Ace could really blame him. Even he was having a hard time with it.

"An where's it say dat?" She challenged. "I believe you'll find out that I am leadah, and there's nuttin you can do to change it. Now you can either accept dat or you cant, it means little ta me. I came heah today to let you know whats been goin on lately. Dat's all." Her eyes flashed a little, "Not to heah you spout off your 'men are bettah den women' crap!"

Ace laughed. He couldn't help it. The look on Jack's face was priceless and one he would remember for all time. Eyes wide, eyebrows up, and mouth parted slightly, the Manhattan leader had just been thoroughly put in his place.

And he knew it too.

Jack gaped for close to a minute before his mouth clamped shut and he sat in his chair, form rigid. Prince had gotten him, but she was right about one thing. He didn't have to like it. And he wasn't. "Fine. You're leader. That means you have to act like one. What're you gonna do about the gang situations in Queens, _leader_?"

"Da name's Prince." She retorted calmly, hands in her pockets. "And to answer your question, Im not going to do anything."

"Excuse me?" This from Ace, who had finally stopped laughing, only to look at her in shock. Did that mean she supported them? Did they lose Karlof only to have someone worse take his place? "Why aren't you going to do anything?"

"Why should I?" She shrugged, "I don't care about them, and they care little foah me. They aim to demolish Manhattan, and why should I stop them? At this point, my opinion of the Manhattan leader is sorely lacking. He disrespects me and treats me like a child...Judges me." Prince looked down at Jack, eyes daring. "When he doesn't even know me."

Jack had to give her that round. Sighing, he nodded. "Prince, then. Why don't you sit down and tell us what you plan to do while you are leader in Queens?" There was a little warmth in his voice, forced clearly, but still there.

"I'd love to." She grinned, taking a seat.

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Sorry this came out so late. School -both online and at school- is killin me. The update might come a little late, but at least its up, right? -smile-

so love me and leave me a review!


	2. Be a leadah

For Brooklyn 3

By: Ambrlupin

Chapter Two: Be a leadah

Summary: While Red is off following Spot, the home front takes center stage as Queens enters into what could be its first civil war. With Brooklyn practically helpless and the Bronx totally undefended, can Manhattan help, or will old grudges get in the way? And will Red ever find Spot? (Sequel to FB and FB2)

Disclaimer: If I did, I'd have money. Seeing as I do not...well what does that tell you?

However, Prince is not mine. I no claim. -huggles- I wish I did tho, freaking fun charrie to play let me tell you. Albeit slightly challenging.

A/n: THIRD half of my first Newsie fic. -blink- ...when did that happen?!

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"You only have one life. Live it to the fullest, play your hands when you've been dealt them, and throw caution to the wind. Thats the only way you're going to get anywhere, the only way you're going to succeed. And it's also the only way Spot Conlon is ever going to like you." - Racetrack Higgins

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Spot Conlon had never considered himself particularly good at poker. Sure, he was okay, but he just hadn't managed to ever come up with the perfect poker face. He let his emotions rule his face too much, especially anger.

When he got back he was going to play with Race. Because he was pretty sure that he had managed one hell of a poker face the moment they had left the station and he had settled down in his seat with Jack and Caroline.

He hadn't spent a lot of time there, however, because his mother didn't know he existed. Instead Jack forced him to a private section of the train where he was -literally- by himself. Spot didn't mind. He preferred it that way.

Caroline would stop by every once and a while, surprising him once again by asking him about the newsies. She had never seemed interested before, but now she couldn't get enough of what he told her. It felt... nice.

"Hey your Majesty, I come bearing dinnah." Caroline opened the door and came in, balancing a small tray with one hand. She had started to talk with more accent whenever she was with him, he noticed.

Was that how his sister really talked? Had he never noticed before?

Spot smirked, leaning back against the wall, crossing his arms. "Come, my servant. Serve me." He lifted his chin a bit, eyes glinting devilishly at her.

Snorting, Caroline nearly dropped the tray on his head. Only his fast catch saved it. "Serve yourself." Reaching in the pocket of a long jacket she wore, she come up with something and plopped it on his head.

"There."

Curious as to what had taken residence on his head, Spot reached up and pulled down something made of wood. Licking his dry lips, he turned his gaze back up to Caroline. "Wh-Where did you get dis?" He asked, shocked.

Sinking down next to him, she smiled. "A new friend of mine heah on da train. I asked him if he would make it foah me."

"I want to meet dis guy." Spot said as he placed the wooden crown carefully back on his head, a little crookedly, as he smirked. "Aftah all. I'm the King of Brooklyn."

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"So, let me get this straight." Jack was sitting with one leg thrown over the leg of his chair, sipping at a whiskey. "You're tellin me a few guys overpowered the _entire_ Queens lodging house?"

Before anyone had a chance to say yes or no, Jack threw back his head and laughed. "I find that a little hard to believe. Karlof was good, but he wasn't that good. Most of the men he had with him only joined up after he had power. So there was maybe a few of them when he took over."

Ace cut him off before he could open his mouth again. "Will ya shut up and let her talk? So far, Jacky, this hasn't been a talk. This has been a you-shoot-down-whatever-we-say and I'm tired of it." His voice didn't snap, but it was close.

Jack took another swig of his drink and pulled his leg down, flat to the floor. "Are you questioning how I do things, Daniel?" His voice was low.

Ace's jaw tightened. "You're drunk, Cowboy. I don't fight drunks."

"I'm not drunk!"

"Boys." Prince, although slightly amused at seeing a drunk Manhattan leader, leaned forward in her chair, sliding her finger along the brim of her hat absently. "I didn't come heah to start a fight."

"Then what did you come here for, Miss Prissy Princess?" Jack turned his drunken attention from Ace to her, his temper flaring again.

"Don't call me dat."

There was enough anger in her voice that Jack actually payed attention and stopped, looking at her with narrowed eyes as she met his gaze.

"How can you know? How can you possibly begin ta realize what we went through?" Her voice shook a bit, but she steadied it in an instant. "You've nevah been taken ovah, have you, Jack Kelly?" Her eyes slid to Ace, where he sat in his chair. "He has. He knows how it feels. But you... You don't have a clue."

Jack shrugged. He really could care less. "Maybe because I run my borough right."

With the sound of hands hitting the table, Ace got to his feet, midnight blue eyes narrowed in anger. "You run it right? Is that how you see it?" He didn't give or take an inch, just stood there, hands still flat on the table. "That I was a bad leadah, and that's why The Bronx was taken over?"

Jack's mouth dropped a bit. Drunk he was, stupid he was, but a betrayer he was not. Shaking his head slowly, he looked up at his friend. "I didn't say that, Ace."

"You implied it." Ace reached up and started unbuttoning his shirt. "Prince's right. You have no clue what it really feels like, Jack, to be taken over. You wouldn't even know where to start." Sliding the shirt off his shoulders, he turned a bit so Jack could see the brand pressed against his side. "Does it make me a bad leader to save my kids, and count my losses? To regroup to fight another day?"

Jack winced at the sight of the brand. It was bringing back some bad memories he would rather just forget about. "...No. Ace, you're not listening to me. That's not what I-"

"Jack. Shut up."

Everyone in the room spun, Prince's hand already flying toward her hair as if she could knot it back up under her hat in less then a second so the newcomer couldn't see it. But it was too late for that.

"Who are you to tell me to shut up, Race?" Jack snapped as the gambler shut the door behind him. "And who let you in here?"

Race, hands stuck in his pockets, nibbled on the cigar as he regarded the three of them in front of me. "Mush did, and dat's cause I asked him. As to why, and to who I am... Dat's easy. I'm da leadah of Brooklyn, or have you forgotten so quickly the promise I made to Spot, Cowboy?"

Jack bit off a curse, looking away. "...Do what cha want. You'd do it anyway." He muttered darkly, still nursing the whiskey.

Race took that as invitation to ignore him. Turning to Prince, he pulled the cigar from his mouth, regarding her with a thoughtful expression on his face. Holding his hand out. "Racetrack Higgins."

"New Brooklyn Leader huh? Pleased ta meetcha Mistah Higgins," she said nodding and taking his hand in return. At least this guy's got a brain. "Name's Prince," she said. Since her hair was down she figured she'd be a girl... and explain being a boy later.

Race didn't even seem to mind that, or notice. Then again, maybe he did. The Italian never seemed to miss much. His eyes went to Ace and then to Jack. This had to stop. It was getting out of hand.

"C'mon Ace, Prince."

Jack's eyebrows rose and he sat up a bit straighter. "Where ya goin?"

Without looking at him, Race shrugged. "Somewhere without you."

Prince and Ace were already at the back door, where no one would be able to see them move somewhere else, when Jack got up. His eyes were dark, his tone so sharp it hurt. "Dis is my lodging house. Im da leadah heah, Race."

Race stubbed the cigar out on the top of the table as he leaned over, looking serious as ever. "Den be a leadah, Jack." Leaning back, he followed the other two out the door, leaving Jack completely and utterly alone.

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A late update, I know. But at least its here, right? -smiles slowly-

Is it too much to ask for a review? Heh?


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